the way puzzle pieces work
by chandelure
Summary: she was a Weasly and he was a Malfoy and so it shouldn't have worked but it did, any way you looked at it. —RoseScorpius


the way puzzle pieces work

**rose/scorpius**

_by once upon a keyboard_

.

It starts out as tradition, really, because he was a Malfoy and she was a Weasly and they just don't _think _about hating each other—they just _do_. Because just as her Dad sends her onto the train telling her to stay away from him, his Dad—Father, she supposes, what with his superior snottish ways—probably told him the same thing. And everyone disapproves when Albus is in Slytherin and is friends with Malfoy, (they hiss under their breath, she knows, wondering whatever got into the boy) because it was just _that unheard of_, but she honestly doesn't care because he(might as well be)'s her favorite cousin, and she thinks family heritage is just plain old _loony_.

_And, _she ponders, _who in their right mind would tell someone not to do something? Because then they're just going to do it, anyway._

But she still can't deny that she loathes Scorpius Malfoy's very being.

.

Even then, when she _knows _that he's the bane of her existence, stolen kisses and barely-there touches make up her weeks, months, years, and she couldn't live without broom closets and running from Filch, because however much she despises the stupid Slytherin, she's also desperately in love with him, and it's irreversible and improbable, because when she started out the two of them were painted with cutting words as sharp as knives and hateful glares, but now they're sketched out in secret moments and hidden dreams, and she's on the tip of the iceberg and it's _breaking fast_, and she's falling _downdowndown_ waiting for him to catch her.

And their parents don't know because that would be like dropping a match into a box of dynamite, because _Weasly this _and _Malfoy that_ and epically boring lectures are not in their style of love, it's all in the rush of being together for seconds of pure bliss, and she _swears_ to Lily and Hugo and Teddy and Victoire it's not true but they can (sort of) tell when she's lying. And (of _course_) Albus knows because she's like an open book to him and he doesn't approve but he doesn't disapprove, because he loves her and she knows he won't tell. It's just mutual like that, silently agreed.

Eventually, it becomes some kind of drug, and she's painfully addicted to it, with the burning sensation that comes with the thrill of the woven web of lies.

.

And she's squeezing her eyes shut and waiting for his open arms but just like _that _he's gone and concrete meets heart and she's breaking, shattering, tearing apart and she _really _should have seen it coming because what had her parents and grandparents and uncles and aunts _told _her, anyway? So she just lies there curled up in a ball bracing herself for the '_I told you so!'_s and the biting words but they never come because no one even knew in the first place, so how could they be reprimanding her for falling in love? And she smiles bitterly, crookedly because she had supposedly inherited all of her mother's smarts, but when she needed them _most_, they flew away with any and all common sense she ever owned and came back laughing at her dreadful misfortune, and so she just kept fallingfallingfalling without growing any wings or remembering any spells.

And even though they don't know what's going on with their little Rosie, her parents (who attracted her to stupid Scorpius in the first place by saying she couldn't have him) realize that she's hurting (so, so badly) and they try and heal her, bandage her up, but she just shakes her head with the best fake smile she can manage and tells them that she'll be fine.

And even though she's always been the worst of liars, she somehow gets away with it just like she always did, because she was (pathetic, stupid!) _Rose Weasly_, and so she could handle herself. She hates it, because for _just once_, she wants someone to realize she isn't some unbreakable hero like her parents and uncles and aunts, she's just a _girl _(not even a girl, a baby) who's fading fast! But no, she's always been the grownup, with her Granger intellect and her Weasly adventuring.

.

She finds herself in her room, counting the things wrong with her until she jerks herself back to reality and reminds herself that this is _Scorpius Malfoy_, someone who didn't stick around for meaningless (no! not meaningless! She tells herself) people.

Eventually she wearily settles on the decision that _maybe_ it wasn't his choice, _maybe _his family found out and he was forbidden from ever seeing her. _Maybe _it wasn't her fault, and _maybe _it wasn't his.

But she's not content with maybes because, for heavens sake, she's Hermione Granger's daughter and so she _has _to know things. It's never (ever ever) been a matter of maybe with Rose; it's always been yeses and nos and it's never been anything in between.

So she settles herself down and she gets to thinking until her brain is thoroughly worn out, and she finally lets slip and realizes that _oh please, _it's useless pretending—he got bored and so he left her, not caring about all the glass pieces he was leaving behind.

.

Eventually she gets over him (hahaha, Rose, funny joke) enough that she can bear to see her cousin Albus (oh god, he was Scorpius's _best friend_) and so they sit down and they talk hour after hour after hour, until she ends up crying and he ends up comforting her because like _hell _she was over him, him with his never-look-back attitude and cocky smirks and Slytherin ties and—and she stops because she's rambling on again and that never ended well. She stops because Albus misses him too, she knows, and she's being a self centered whiny brat again.

Albus assures her she's not, but she shakes him off because she _is_, and he knows it and so does she and she suddenly feels _dusty_, old and thrown away, because she doubts she'll ever get out of the trash dump she was brought to.

It doesn't hurt too much, though, because she's been like this for a little past _fartoolong _and so the pain was just sort of dull and blunt.

.

He comes back (what seems like) years after, with his blond hair and blue eyes and overall Malfoyness, and she despises him for a split second, because it feels like first year when they first met and _dear god_, did sparks _fly _that day, but then the hatred flies away and she simply punches him in the face. And then she realizes _what the hell _she just did and starts looking around frantically, trying to find a place to hide. But instead of fuming rage, he laughs and kisses her and was she in heaven or just dreaming?

But when he pulls away, she sees it's him and everything just _clicked _into place again, just like it did all those days, months, years ago when they first let out all the pent up passion.

Because they'd always been meant for each other.


End file.
